


Back Against the Wall (Head Banging and Other Injuries)

by whatsup479er



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Experiment, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsup479er/pseuds/whatsup479er
Summary: Sylvain keeps getting into trouble and Ingrid confronts him again.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Back Against the Wall (Head Banging and Other Injuries)

**Author's Note:**

> Characterization may be a little weird, it's my first time writing these two.

Sylvain grimaced as the back of his head impacted against the cobblestone wall, sending stars around the edges of his vision. It didn't hurt yet, but he could tell it was going to. The impact knocked the breath out of him, as he felt his back being forced up against the stones. He attempted to recover, wishing to make his way into the courtyard beyond the passageway which he was currently trapped in, but he was held firmly in place by an immovable object. 

Not that he was unaccustomed to being thrown against walls. Typically, by an overzealous lover or a previously scorned one. However, the woman in front of him was neither. The blonde hair, green eyes, and currently furrowed brow helped him identify her, even as his ears rang and he began to feel a stinging pain where his head had contacted the wall. It was Ingrid, one of his closest friends, if not his closest. She also held the distinction of Sylvain’s sole female friend whom he hadn’t attempted or managed to sleep with. 

Yet. 

Not that she would have let him even if he tried. She knew his game. Ingrid had spent nearly 15 years trying to rectify his womanizing behavior, as well as cleaning up his messes. She threw herself into his love life, falling on the sword for him countless times, but for reasons which eluded his grasp.

He winced again as she used both hands to push his shoulders back up against the wall, again briefly connecting his head to the cobbles behind. Often enough he found himself being lectured by her, however, rarely did their discussions ever become physical altercations as this one had. Now, conversation with Felix on the other hand... Well, if he had his wish, every conversation would just be some form of personal combat, whether by lances, swords, or bare knuckles. Felix was a fighter. 

Sylvain preferred to think of himself as a lover. This is why he was here, back against the wall, possibly concussed from multiple wall-related traumas; A fuzzy, out-of-focus blonde pointing her finger in his face, scolding him in a volume that was escalating from a raised voice to a shout. 

Evidently, he had done something to displease her, but his rattled brain could not seem to connect the dots. He couldn’t quite remember what it was or may have been. He began to focus on the conversation just as Ingrid took another breath and started to lay into him again.

Ingrid recounted his exploits and breakup in rather impressive detail. Either his most recent lover had given her the details, or she had managed to uncover them via her own means; it hardly mattered as the end result for him was always the same. His being trapped by her somewhere, followed by being thoroughly lambasted. He had lost his train of thought, his attention to the one-sided conversation long gone, and his sharp focus slowly faded into a thousand-yard stare. His thoughts turned to the woman in front of him.  
Ingrid was different. She’d come from a different royal house obviously, from a more southerly part of Faerghus, but she was also unlike any woman he’d ever met prior. She was determined and focused, virtuous and honest. She aspired to be a knight. A far cry from the majority of women he’d met in his youth. Women who only saw him for his inheritance, or worse, his Crest.

And she was strong. Far stronger than he had thought prior to being accosted. Every time he attempted to wiggle his way out of the situation, an arm would grasp his shoulder, the vice-grip forcing him back into place.

She had stopped speaking now. The look on her face was incredulous, to say the least. He realized that she was probably waiting for a response, but having no idea of the preceding conversation, he was forced to improvise. 

Typically, the strategy was casual denial. However, given the level of aggression he'd seen from Ingrid, he figured that plan may need some rethinking. His instincts told him to stop overthinking and just start talking, as his charm and silver-tongue were among his greatest assets, and escaping uncomfortable situations his specialty. But his opening quip died in his throat when he saw the look on Ingrid's face. Behind the expectant eyes, awaiting a response, was a tiredness tinged with some deeper pain. 

He knew what he had to do. He opened his mouth to apologize.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing and posting something here on AO3. I wanted to get a feel for the tagging system.
> 
> This was just a little thing I threw together to flex my very atrophied creative muscles. I have a tendency to over-rely on conversation so I tried to write something without any conversation. It was my first time writing these two so I don't think I quite got the right balance of their friendship vs their sibling-esque relationship. We'll get there.
> 
> I'm looking for feedback, so it'd be greatly appreciated if you let me know what you think. It's kinda what I want on a weird piece like this. I'm also in the Sylvaingrid discord, so hit me up there if you care to!


End file.
